


In Sickness and in Song

by Cyan (vehicroids)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Fluff, One-Sided Attraction, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:27:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28986348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vehicroids/pseuds/Cyan
Summary: Of all the times to be ill, Hilda has to be ill when resources are low. Thankfully, Yuri knows how to work with that.(Yuri rarepair week day 3: cooking/illness)
Relationships: Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9





	In Sickness and in Song

Of all the times to catch a bad cold, it had to be when supplies are running low.

To keep infection rates low, patient zero - in this case, Hilda - is locked away in her room, with strict instructions not to let her leave and not to go in. However, someone still needed to bring her food and supplies, and that duty fell to Yuri.

Initially, Claude had volunteered, but Yuri refused to let him. If Claude falls sick, who will lead the army? Yuri rarely ever falls ill anymore, and he deals with people less often than Claude. At least, those were the reasons he gave Claude, who accepted his reasons. There are more reasons, ones that Yuri keeps close to his chest. No one needs to know about that.

He waits until the kitchen is empty before going in and grabbing what little supplies are left. The remaining items are pathetic, but it'll be enough to feed one person. It's a good thing Hilda is sick: wartime or not, she is still picky about what is served to her. Yuri can't imagine she'll care much now, not when she's too ill to move.

He gets to work on cooking: soup. It's a simple recipe, one his mother made for him when he was sick, and one he made for her when she fell ill. It's silly nostalgia on his part, but he hopes it will help. It helped him when he was a kid, and it's a perfect recipe for when one is low on funds or supplies.

Right now, Yuri is both. Merchants hike their prices up during wartime. The war is great for merchants, and no one else.

And to think, Yuri had done such a good job of staying out of this war. But no, Claude had to drag Abyss in this mess. When the war.is over, Yuri is going to choke him. That can wait until they survive.

As soon as the soup is finished, he ladles some into a bowl and places it on a tray, leaving the rest of the soup aside for now. She can have some more later. Already, in his mind, Yuri is begrudging the walk to Hilda's room with a tray in hand. Begrudgingly, he will do it, even if he receives no thanks in turn. Someone has to look after her, and that someone should be Yuri.

Hilda is important. Not solely to her friends, and not only to Claude (and Yuri, not that he'll admit it), but she's important for the war efforts. Yuri can't deny she's one of their strongest soldiers; Hilda is even stronger than himself. Without her, they would be losing a valuable asset. Yuri can't let that happen.

So long as he tells himself it's nothing personal, even Yuri can believe himself.

People around the monastery give him a wide berth as he walks through. He's not sure why: whether it's because he's holding soup or potentially infected, it doesn't matter. He appreciates it all the same.

When he reaches Hilda's room, he shuffles the tray to hold it under one arm, using his free hand to knock on the door. No response. He tries again, and still, Hilda does not reply. He hisses out a sigh, annoyed. She had better be in there.

"I'm coming in, even if you ignore me," he says, before doing just that.

The first thing that hits Yuri is the unmistakable smell of being unwell. He grimaces at the smell, and he would be tempted to leave the door open, were it not cold outside. He steps in and closes the door behind him. There's a lump of sheets and pillows in the bed, shifting ever so slightly. So she's in here. Good. He was scared she might have run off to hang out with her friends. The last thing they need is for this cold to spread further. He places the tray on a chair beside her bed. He isn't sure if she's awake, but he grabs what he assumes is her shoulder and shakes her awake.

"I made soup. You should eat something."

Right as he pulls away, a clammy hand grabs hold of his wrist. She's trembling. Under the blankets, red-rimmed pink eyes stare up at him. She might have been cute, if she didn't look so blatantly ill. Yuri frowns down at her.

"Don't go," she begs.

"Hilda, I can't stay here and look after you all day," he says.

"Please."

Something in the soft way she pleads makes Yuri stay, against his better judgement. It's too late for him: if he's going to catch her illness, he's going to have it by now. Slowly, Hilda shuffles in the blankets until she's sitting up. She wipes her nose with the back of her hand, and her hair covers most of her face. She's a wreck, and Yuri can't help but stare. She frowns.

"I know, I look awful," she says.

"You do, but that's because you're sick. Anyone who looks good while sick isn't really sick." With a short laugh, Yuri adds, "this is what happens when you claim you're not feeling well all the time. Eventually, the Goddess has her laugh."

Hilda scowls at him, before he places the tray on her lap. Yuri leans against the wall, looking anywhere but at Hilda. He notes the discarded handkerchiefs left on the floor, in dire need of washing. Her pyjamas are probably the same, though the disgusting yellow colour of her Golden Deer loungewear doesn't show stains. He doesn't even want to think about it. He would suggest that she should get undressed so that someone may wash her clothes, but he's certain it will end in soup being thrown at him and another mess he'll have to clean up.

"Did you make this?" Hilda asks.

"Yeah. You could call it an old family recipe."

She smiles weakly up at him. "It's really good. Thanks, Yuri."

Well, at least she's not complaining about it. He should have a little more faith in Hilda. He stands there awkwardly, waiting for her to finish so he can clear it up and leave her to sleep for a little longer. She looks over at him with those puppy dog eyes of hers and pats the chair. Normally, she would heavily hint at what she wants rather than being straightforward, but not today. Today, she's too tired to hint.

It's strange seeing her like this. He doesn't like it. Yuri never thought he would miss her beaming smile as much as he does right now.

"I feel awful," she mumbles in between mouthfuls of soup.

"I know."

He sits his foot on his knee, leaning back with his arms crossed. There isn't much he can do for her, other than feed her soup and pray for a quick recovery. It's a small request to the Goddess on top of his many other prayers as of late. If nothing else, he can keep her safe and fed. As soon as she's eaten her fill, she drops back down into her pillows, and Yuri takes the tray from her lap and places it on the chair. He begins gathering discarded handkerchiefs, holding the rags at arm's length before dropping them onto the tray. He'll get those washed for her while she rests.

"Yuri?" she asks, her voice quiet and groggy.

He looks at her. "Yeah?"

"Thanks for looking after me. You're really nice. Thank you."

"How many more times are you going to thank me?" he asks.

She huffs. Yuri grabs the blankets and tucks her back in, and Hilda closes her eyes. He brushes hair out of her face, her skin damp with sweat. When she's feeling a little better, he'll change her bedsheets as well. She whimpers at his touch, and he pulls his hand away. She opens her eyes again, looking up at him with a little pout, before fluttering shut once more. Cute.

She'll be asleep soon, much to his relief. Hilda needs her rest, before Claude worries himself to death over her. He watches her for a moment longer, before going to grab the tray. Before he can, she sneezes. She's still awake.

"Hey," she says. "Can you sing for me?"

"No."

"Please? It'll make me feel better."

He really doesn't want to. There's nothing he wants to do less than to sing. But those hopeful eyes are staring at him again, and Yuri sighs, defeated.

"Yeah, fine."

Hilda lets out a sound that he's sure is meant to be delighted. He stands at her bedside, stroking her hair so softly. Even when she's sick, she's demanding.

"You're a pain," he says.

"You love me."

Those words make him pause. It isn't something he thought about before, nor does he want to start considering it now. He keeps running his fingers through her hair, and she's still staring up expectantly at him. He doesn't want to do this, but she might not even remember this. It's something he's going to have to hope for.

With his voice weak and nervous like a baby bird taking flight, Yuri begins to sing.

It's an old song, one he hasn't sung in years, but it makes Hilda smile. As much as he wants to stop, he wants her to keep smiling. He's not sure which one he wants more. He carries on, torn between wanting to sing loudly and wanting to whisper the lyrics in her ear. He knows one thing for certain.

He is not doing this again.

Yuri had always prided himself in his ability to manipulate people, but he has found someone better just as good as him at manipulation. He can't help but smile. Trust Yuri to fall for his own tricks. As soon as he's sure she's asleep, he touches a kiss to her clammy forehead.

"Sleep well," he whispers. "I'll be back for dinner."

He watches her for a moment longer, before taking the tray covered in handkerchiefs and leaving her room. It doesn't matter how he feels about her, not right now. Not until the war is well and truly over, then perhaps they can have that conversation.

Until then, all he can do is show Hilda, instead.

**Author's Note:**

> Anyone else ever think about how Yuri's probably used to taking care of people when they're sick? Considering he's got a sick mother to look after. Anyway I love Hilda and Yuri and I love the idea that she's the only one who can manipulate Yuri into doing what she wants. It's a nice change of pace. I'd blame my best friend for making me ship them but this was all on me
> 
> All of these so far have been tagged with fluff. I'm having a great time
> 
> Bug me on [Tumblr](http://vehicroids.tumblr.com) || [Twitter](https://twitter.com/vehicroids)


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